oppress this

It is time to be heard.

Just last month, China announced a threat to install anti-pornography software on every computer sold in China, or so says western media. However, local media specifies more flexibility, under the name of choice and freedom. The truth simply is hard to capture in black and white.

One thing that is easily quantified is a number of websites currently (or recently) blocked from the local view within China as a result of the recent clashes in the northwest province of Xinjiang between the Uyghur and Han ethnicities, without having to dig very deep:

• wikipedia
• facebook
• blogger
• wordpress
• twitter
  

Over the last decade, China has taken the liberty of restricting web liberties at large, including a few that have hit close to home:

• google
• yahoo
• youtube
  
• bbc
• wikipedia
  
• facebook
• twitter
• blogger
• wordpress
• and many more...
  

If only I had kept track of all those google search terms that were vetoed in various quests, likely because of suspected pornographic or pedophiliac intent. Right. A favorite rejection included this search term, as I prepped for my TEFL (Teaching English as a Foreign Language) job:

• oral children's efl game

The proxy *was* my friend. My favorites sneakme and anonymouse have fallen victim to site restrictions. Some are just more of a hassle than they are worth.

The blocking of websites in China often points to the speculation that the Chinese government simply does not want locals accessing foreign media. Unfortunately, most locals are not aware of the above mentioned sites, as they do not use English to surf the web. Furthermore, they are unaware of resources provided by an English-native creator, albeit with the availability of translation into Mandarin. I would like to suggest that the blocking of websites is more so to block foreigners from disseminating views, experience, or facts with the outside world.

In this sense, it is an honor to be one of the many people whose voice is restricted... not simply because it means my thoughts are profound. Not simply because I have something worth saying. But because I have something to say which is worth hearing, and the People's Republic of China would rather it not be heard.

Who plants a seed with roots anew is soon to see the shoot.

As any good story might begin, a friend of a friend shared this experience: She is a college student, masters student, and part of the Communist Party. On occasion, they have participation 'homework', which could be in the form or attending/planning meetings or writing a rather nationalistic essay. This year, for June 4th, 2009, she was given a special assignment: she was informed that she would be the

"Supervisor of the Prevention of a Commemoration for an Event that Never Happened".

Needless to say, such a delegation had the student, previously and otherwise oblivious to and uninformed of the 1989 Tiananmen Square Massacre, asking a few difficult questions of her own. If an event didn't happen, why would anyone be commemorating it? And more importantly, why would anyone spend time, energy, and resources to prevent the commemoration of something that never happened?

And so... stranded over here in a form of isolation, which shall succeed neither to brainwash nor dirty it more, I write with a bit a clarity, with reflection on what it means to be sheltered in the professed interest of protection.

The fascist smashes the egg to silence the rooster.

Note: the below photos are screenshots taken from my browsing experiences while in the heartland of China:

"this video is not available in your country..."

"Connection interrupted: the connection to the server was reset while the page was loading"

"The connection has timed out: the server at wikipedia.org is taking too long to respond."

Note: Access to Blogger is still blocked within China. Without access to a much appreciated VPN (proxy), I would be unable to write such a post or publish it to my blog from within mainland China. Thus, I am blessed and grateful to be sharing.

noodle soup and friendship

Fall officially fell today.

The morning was cool, if not warm, and thick with the humidity that begs for a downpour. Hours later, that wish was fulfilled, and heavy rain fell from the sky and penetrated strong winds as if to threaten with snow or even hail.

The loyalty of the Beijing summers has disappeared at the first threat of winter, and I fear there is no turning back.

I had decided to bike to my old campus (blcu) and study for tomorrow's oral exam at a café. Where there is a place of interest, smokers are prolific. And so I thought that I'd dare to sit outdoors at a picnic table under a canopied area adjacent to the cafés and restaurants and breathe in the crisp evening air.

But I hadn't counted on the rain that would eventually cause a chill to overcome me and physically persuade me from concentrating on my studies. The coffee had long been sipped to nil, and the following cup of hot water lost its strength too soon.

On my way home, I decided to stop by the Muslims Restaurant on campus to say hello to my friends who had yet to punch out. Hailing from Xinjiang, China's most northwestern province, my friends are not the *Chinese* that most outside China would first imagine. They are Uyghur, one of the Muslim ethnic minorities in China proper. Their land borders Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, Russia, and Mongolia - yet is [politically defined as a part of] China.

coworkers and friends of the Muslims Restaurant

My travels to Xinjiang (200807) enabled me to see just a glimpse of today's Xinjiang, where street signs sport both Uyghur and Mandarin alike, as in this Urumqi bus station below:

can you name the bus station?

At any rate, I stopped by to see my friends at their restaurant. The bakers making naan (a type of really tasty bread) had pulled closed the windows where customers usually can watch them work the dough and shape the frisbee-shaped loaves. Winter was on its way.

They pulled the window open for me and we talked for a few minutes. It was close to 10p and time to eat dinner before calling it a night. I noticed they had just sat down with large bowls of broth and noodles, and my good friend pointed out that it was a dish I had eaten in Xinjiang: mampar. MMmmmampar...

mmmmmampar...

And before I knew it, they had dished out a small noodlicious bowl to share with me... leaving me wondering if there would be any troubles resulting from my not eating *on the inside*. Rest assured, they said, the boss would not mind.

Mampar (pronounced: mem•pear'r) is a pulled noodle soup. Fat noodles are literally formed by pinching the dough as it is being stretched and tossed into a boiling broth. Tonight's broth was rather salty and had cabbage, garlic, carrots, and green onions in it.

In Xinjiang, this broth consisted of tomatoes, spicy Anaheim peppers, red onion, a dash of salt, and vegetable oil. No more and no less. In the following video, my friend Raxidan shows how to prepare Mampar:

noodle soup of Xinjiang

There's nothing quite like sharing a bowl of noodle soup with friends to warm you as winter steps up its approach from a hint to a sprint！